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THE CREEPING WEED
Greetings again kiddies, and welcome to the TWENTY-THIRD ISSUE OF CREEPS CASTLE! Your Old Pal, CREEPS, is really HOEING TO TOWN on my GRUESOME GARDEN outside of my CASTLE. Among my vegetables, I've got BEATS that really are quite a HIT and really PACK A PUNCH, TOMA-TOES, that are as hard as NAILS right now, and HABA-SCARE-RO PEPPERS Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha. While they're all GROANING IN THE GARDEN, here's a terror-tale of a farmer, whose neighbor has enough to VINE ABOUT... Back in August of 1927, there was a farm down in Tennessee, where a farmer carried a basket of corn on the cob into his farmhouse. He put the basket on his kitchen-table when he came in his backdoor. A knocking came to the backdoor, and the farmer turned around, answering it. "Good evenin', Albert, could I please borrow some corn from you for me and the missus?" another farmer asked the farmer. "Dadgummit, Eli, I told y'all not to come around here at night! No corn Neighbor!!" Albert replied, angrily. "But--" Eli began, but Albert slammed the backdoor on him. Albert got into his kitchen-cabinet, getting out a bottle of Popov Vodka. He pulled out a bottle of orange juice from his ice-box, pouring the vodka into it. "Stupid idjit Eli" Albert mumbled, taking a gulp of his Screwdriver. He went into his living room, looking out one of the windows. He saw an extremely large weed, which looked like a green vine of moss sticking straight up, out of the ground in his yard. "Now where did that sucker come from?" he proclaimed, sipping his drink. Moments later, Albert approached the weed, chopping it down with a hatchet. It started writhing and squirming. He heard a high-pitched yelp and said, "what in tarnation?", returning to his farmhouse. Albert played a record of a man and chorus singing, "Oh, Susannah!" on a record-player in his living-room when the telephone rang. He answered it. "Howdy! Eli ya idjit, no corn for y'all idjits!!!" he yelled and hung up. Albert saw the weed on his porch through the window, and grabbed the hatchet again. He ran out shouting, "DADGUM SUCKER!!", seeing the weed was larger. The weed crawled, leaving a trail of green ooze behind it. Albert raced after it, but the creature quickly slithered into the grass. "Please Albert, m'wife and I don't have enough food this here season!!!" Eli called, coming into the yard. "Get off of my property now, or I'll cut your head off!" Albert shouted back, causing poor Eli to run, screaming. Albert went into the house, lighting and smoking a pipe, hearing his window smashing in his kitchen. He ran in screaming, as the weed creeped through the broken-window with rolling-eyes glowing-green and huge. It now had a mouth of sharp, pointed-fangs as well. Growling in its high-pitched tone, the monster attacked Albert, wrapping around him and gnawing on his throat, killing him. The next morning, Eli found Albert's corpse on the floor, the weed-monster gnawing on the skull of his skeleton. The creature crept passed Eli, outside, and Eli grabbed the basket of corn and left. Well, Kiddies, I guess there are no BONES about poor Farmer Albert, eh? He sure PLANTED his hatchet in that thing, but was rather a BAD SEED Hee-Hee. At least poor Farmer Eli got a few FEARS OF CORN ON THE SLOB for him and his wife to eat ha-ha-ha-ha.